


say something loving

by Katraa



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Triangulum Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 01:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katraa/pseuds/Katraa
Summary: The fifth time Hibiki showed up in the doorway, hands awkwardly fidgeting in front of him, it finally clicked.  Hibiki Kuze was, for some unknown reason,afraidthat he would disappear.DURING TRI ARC PWP.





	say something loving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [habenaria_radiata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata/gifts).



> THIS FIC BROUGHT TO YOU BY CAVA.  
> anyway i finally got a weekend off from my new job!  
> so i decided to celebrate with this quick pwp.  
> please enjoy?? i don't know. it was super fun to write.  
> and to focus on yamato's pov for once!!

The first time Hibiki appeared in the small room Miyako had designated for her ailing “brother”, Yamato thought nothing of it. It was only natural for a comrade to want to check in on another. That much even Yamato with his limited social awareness understood. 

The second time hadn’t seemed weird, either. Hibiki had asked if he was hungry, if he needed anything other than water, and if he needed him to needle Otome to come check on his wounds. Yamato assured him that while the stress of spending days in the Stratum had been a stress to his body, it was different. The Stratum was a place of data and existed outside of this realm. And for that reason, time did not impact the human body the same way. Instincts such as hunger and thirst seemed shut off as time stood still. It was hard to explain but Yamato tried to with as few words as possible.

The third time Hibiki came to visit, now only fifteen minutes separating his trips, Yamato grew suspicious. Did Hibiki not believe him? Was Hibiki trying to pry for information? He quickly banished such thoughts – Hibiki was a bright light in an otherwise dismal world. His potential was unmatched and he lead valiantly and cared deeply for people that society would otherwise scoff at. While Yamato truly never understood it, he could _respect_ it. And that was a start.

The fifth time Hibiki showed up in the doorway, hands awkwardly fidgeting in front of him, it finally clicked. Hibiki Kuze was, for some unknown reason, _afraid_ that he would disappear. 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Hibiki asks for the twentieth time, his right hand thumbing at one of the ears of his hood he’s dragged around front.

“I have a bell,” Yamato reminds him, gesturing to the small bell at the bedside. To further accentuate his point, he points to the phone beside it. “If a need arises, you will be the first to know, rest assured.”

“Okay,” Hibiki says and it sounds like an outright lie. “Okay, then I’ll let you … get some rest.”

Yamato’s brow furrows. His lips part to speak but no words come out. Instead, he chuckles very softly and closes his eyes. 

“Uh?” Hibiki says despite himself from the doorway. “Is something funny?” 

“You’re worried,” Yamato says simply and opens his eyes. They’re softer than usual and despite the strain from the Stratum they look so _bright_. 

“Yeah, I am,” Hibiki answers and it sounds resolute despite the nervous flick of his gaze. “There was no record of you in this world. Miyako didn’t even know you existed… You were probably ten minutes away from dying if we hadn’t sailed in to save you.”

Yamato frowns, the soft looking turning decidedly sharper. “I doubt that.”

“I saw your clip,” Hibiki finally says, and it sounds like _days_ of exhaustion pouring out of him with those few simple words. “I saw you die.” There’s a tenseness, a cracking to his voice and he bites down on his bottom lip _hard_. “So don’t … don’t try and tell me that you were fine, okay? I know you’re strong and I admire that but –”

“All right,” interjects Yamato, sounding resigned and a bit irritated but _willing to listen_. He shifts on the bed. 

“All right,” echoes Hibiki and he pushes his weight off the doorframe. “Sorry I’m hovering,” he admits, apparently aware of his own prolonged appearance. “I just,” he begins and then looks down, bright blue eyes dimmer than usual. “Missed you.”

It’s a confession of sorts and the words echo off the blank and bare walls of the room. Yamato glances up and over at him with slightly wide eyes. Silence passes between them. It’s a sentiment Yamato is unfamiliar with. No one has ever in his short seventeen years of life told him such a thing. It’s a silly sentiment – we’ve known each other for such a short time – but Yamato is grappling to _understand_

“…You’re welcome to stay as long as you would like, Hibiki,” says Yamato and despite himself he pats the far edge of the bed. 

Within seconds Hibiki closes the door and heads over. Carefully, so as not to disrupt the small wires connected to Yamato, Hibiki takes a seat. That same, timid smile from the first day they met presents itself and it’s so damn _radiant_. The tense air from before seems to disappear. 

“Man you … really scared me there for a second,” Hibiki confesses and he starts _fidgeting_ again with the ends of his sleeves. “When we finally were able to reach you I thought it was too late.”

“Nonsense,” Yamato says and he quickly amends, “It would be unlike you to fail at anything you put your mind to.”

Yamato notices the way Hibiki’s pale skin turn pink. It’s a fetching shade and so _unnatural_. Usually when Hibiki’s in the troughs of battle, his face is a mix of pale and harsh reds. This is nothing like that. This is a soft pink tinge that begins along his cheekbones and rushes down his neck and beneath his collar. Yamato doesn’t understand it. 

“If it is too warm, I can call someone—” Yamato begins, calm as a cucumber, but it abruptly interrupted by a slim, cold finger against his lips. He blinks.

Hibiki stares at him, the pink turning redder, his eyes dilated, his pulse pounding felt even through his fingertip. Yamato blinks back at him, still as calm as before, but now a touch confused. It’s not unlike Hibiki to reassuringly engage in physical contact with his teammates but Yamato has rarely been on the receiving end of it. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?” Hibiki asks, voice _incredibly small_ , eyes at half-mast. “Anything at all…?”

Yamato doesn’t get it. He can’t quite understand what the underpinnings to that statement are. He’s not stupid and he knows there’s _something_ bubbling beneath the surface and that Hibiki is acting coy, but he can’t put his finger on the what or why. It’s irritating but he trusts Hibiki, he admires him, so it doesn’t really _upset him_. Rather, he’s more upset with himself that he can’t puzzle it all out.

“Be plain,” Yamato answers, defiantly speaking against the pad of Hibiki’s finger. 

“Mm.” Hibiki makes a sort of choked noise to himself and there’s a _laugh_. The tips of his ears are red and it’s oddly endearing in a way Yamato doesn’t get, either. But he knows enough to discern that he likes it. He likes it a lot. “Can you promise me one thing, then?”

“Of course,” Yamato says despite his own suspicious tendencies, his own general distrust in society. He hasn’t even heard the request yet and he’s willing to promise this civilian _anything_ ; he’s willing to write himself out of existence for this boy.

“You can push me away at any time. Just – don’t hit the bell, okay? You can yell at me but I don’t really want the embarrassment of everyone rushing in and seeing me getting turned down,” Hibiki says and he has the audacity to _pout_.

“Turned down?” Yamato echoes and the words sound so strange, the idiom new to him, and he merely blinks back. “…But yes, of course.”

“Okay.” With a quick intake of breath, Hibiki lets his hand fall to the side. Shortly after his hand is replaced by a pair of warm lips against Yamato’s. Shortly after, Hibiki’s hand rests warmly, _comfortably and securely_ , against Yamato’s forearm and Hibiki is leaning against him. There’s a scant amount of space between their chests and yet it is as if their heartbeats are beating in unison.

Yamato makes a surprised noise against their lips but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he allows instinct to guide him. His eyes slide shut and he focuses on the undeniable _heat_ radiating from their mouths. It makes his skin cover itself in goosebumps and his pulse quicken to extraordinary speeds. 

Hibiki takes it as a good sign, apparently, because the boy is quickly climbing into Yamato’s lap. He’s mindful of the wires as he swings his left leg over Yamato’s hips. The straddle is strange but Hibiki adjusts quickly, hands settling on their new homes upon Yamato’s shoulders. The kiss comes to a natural end but Hibiki doesn’t pull away. Instead, the boy bumps their foreheads together and nervously _giggles_.

“Is this okay?” asks Hibiki and his fingers dig into Yamato’s shoulders.

Yamato processes it. Affection is foreign to him but his studies and readings give him enough of a base, a foundation, to begin to understand this. Physical affection is new but it’s not so completely outlandish. In fact, it feels warm, _safe_ , and it rivals the same rush of adrenaline of battles, of accomplishments, of _power_. Accordingly, a hunger roots itself in his gut and he lifts a hand to skim along Hibiki’s jaw and cheek. 

“More,” Yamato says and it’s almost an order had it not been for the breathless edge to his voice.

“Yeah? Yeah,” Hibiki agrees, a rush of courage urging him on as he smiles and then quickly slams their lips back together.

Their second kiss is hungrier, messier, and full of teeth. Yamato mirrors Hibiki’s efforts, sucking and biting at his lips seconds after Hibiki does. There’s a swipe of tongue eventually and then they’re stuck in a battle for at least a minute. The sensation is strange – not as nice as what they’ve done thus far – but it adds to the fire starting in Yamato’s chest. He is acutely aware of every single point of contact between them and he finds his hands moving on their own accord. Into Hibiki’s hair, down his back, along his sides, thumbing at the ends of his hoodie. He isn’t sure what spurs him on besides raw instinct and desire, but his fingers slip an inch under the soft fabric and begin to ghost lines along Hibiki’s hips.

Hibiki whines against his mouth and the noise does _something_. It’s a stronger sensation than the kissing, than the touching, and Yamato’s throat goes dry and then aridly _hot_. Not quite understanding it but willing to explore it, Yamato kisses Hibiki harder and guides his palms back along Hibiki’s lower back. Blunt fingernails map out his back and spine. Hibiki squirms in his lap, still happily kissing him with bites and licks occasionally, until he shifts in _just the right way_ that makes a new round of foreign pleasure spike through Yamato.

It’s hard to put into words. It’s definitely friction, he decides in his heat-dazed mind, and it’s definitely _nice_ and makes his heart and chest burn even hotter. He can’t quite figure out what is causing it besides Hibiki, besides Hibiki being _on him in his lap_ but he’s curious to replicate it. So Yamato makes a nearly guttural noise into the kiss and shifts his hips as he simultaneously tightens his hold around Hibiki’s waist to keep him as close as possible. He’s inexperienced as fuck but he makes up for it in spades in determination.

“Ya…” Hibiki begins as he breaks the kiss and sucks in a shaky breath. When Yamato’s eyes flutter open he notices how _red_ Hibiki’s face is, processes the way Hibiki is clinging to him for dear life, and Yamato decides this is his favorite version of Hibiki yet. “Holy shit…”

Yamato doesn’t answer, merely smirks, and continues learning the curves of Hibiki’s back, continues to learn what it’s like to feel someone else’s skin against your own. It’s addicting and so serene all at once.

“Can I – ” Hibiki begins but apparently thinks better of words. The boy shifts back, extracting himself from Yamtao’s death grip. Yamato looks confused, hair a mess and lips puffy from the aggressive kissing, but he doesn’t look upset. Curious, if anything.

“You need rest so I’m just gonna…” Hibiki says, weakly, and then keeps shifting back until he’s resting on Yamato’s outstretched legs. He balances his weight on his knees and then peeks back up at the flushed Chief. “The yelling at me thing still is in effect, by the way.”

Yamato merely _rolls his eyes_ but nods. 

Hibiki looks nervous, laughing under his breath, as his hands slide up Yamato’s thighs and reach up to loose waistband of the sweats Otome deigned to garb him in. Hibiki has never been more thankful for the nurse in his entire time. With a burst of courage, Hibiki hooks his thumbs into the waistband and tugs _down_ , bringing the fabric lower inch by inch.

Yamato is tilting his head at this point but otherwise is not making a noise. Again, physical affection is completely out of his wheelhouse but he’s smart enough to put two and two together. It’s not as if his own body is a mystery to him. He understands the basics and despite having zero experience in these ordeals, there’s comfort in the fact that Hibiki seems to be in the same boat, driven only by pure desire and the heat of the moment.

“Jesus Christ you’re hot,” Hibiki murmurs, his cheeks ablaze as he brings the sweats down to just above Yamato’s knees, making quick work with the thin pair of black boxers, too. “I’ve – uh – never done this before so? Just… let me know if it’s weird? Or anything?”

Hibiki’s usually calm and carefree demeanor is gone and instead replaced by a nervous shyness Yamato isn’t familiar with. It’s every bit endearing as his determination, as his potential, and Yamato isn’t sure _why_. He’s always been focused on merit and power and this is contrary to all of that. Hibiki’s hesitation isn’t something to be admired and yet he feels closer to the boy than ever both.

So Yamato watches curiously as Hibiki sucks in a quick breath and then goes down on him. His lips very gently, nervously, press against the head of his dick. The touch sends an electric jolt through Yamato’s system and he grunts. His hands messily tangle in Hibiki’s hair and he almost catches the way Hibiki _grins_.

Yamato’s eyes screw shut seconds after.

The encouragement is apparently all Hibiki needs because he’s quick to throw hesitation to the wind and take as much as he possibly can into his mouth. The sensation is, again, foreign to Yamato but it’s decidedly _addicting_. The wet, tight heat is overstimulation but in all the best ways. Waves of pleasure course through Yamato he feels himself simultaneously trembling and twitching. It’s the best kind of confusion.

Hibiki continues, slowly bobbing his head as his hands skim up Yamato’s bare, pale thighs. 

Things continue like that for a few minutes and Yamato is surprised at his own stamina. Honestly, it feels like he’s close to orgasm multiple times but Hibiki seems to pick up on it and slows down, pulls away, and then peppers his thigh with kisses for a few seconds before going back at it. It’s beautiful torture and Yamato’s chest rises and falls heavily with each and every second of it.

It’s Hibiki’s tongue dragging along his shaft when Hibiki takes him back into his mouth that does it. Yamato squirms even more and nearly _yanks_ Hibiki’s hair out. His thighs tighten and he’s moaning without even realizing it. It’s a noise he wasn’t even sure he was capable of but here he is, and it’s all sorts of beautiful.

It takes a few seconds after that for him to come, his body spasming and hips arching up. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that Hibiki’s name, clipped and shaky, escapes him as he rides out the orgasm. He doesn’t particularly mind it.

When the aftershocks die off, Hibiki pulls back and swallows. There’s very little that’s escaped his mouth and he licks his lips clean just in case. It’s impressive and Yamato has to wonder if Hibiki is a natural at this.

“Oh my god,” Hibiki laughs, smile evident, as he shyly meets Yamato’s pleasure-blown gaze. “That was… I am totally down for that whenever you want.” His gaze is absolutely _radiant_.

What they just did processes very slowly in Yamato’s mind. It’s a level of closeness, of trust, that he’s never been able to achieve with anyone else. It’s a basic human desire he’s ignored for so long in favor of training, of achieving greatness. It was conditioned out of him, he thought, and that he simply had no interest in such matters. But Hibiki was so easily able to light a fire, to awaken it, and every second of it had felt utterly amazing.

It’s acceptable in his book. Hell, it’s more than acceptable.

It’s something he’ll only ever allow Hibiki, something he’ll willingly embarrass himself and stumble through with Hibiki. It’s just another new experience brought to him by this beautiful boy that’s managed to rework his entire worldview in such a short span. He’s in deep and he doesn’t even _mind it_.

“It was…certainly something,” Yamato says, a breathless chuckle stamping his statement. The words are warm and convey every single budding emotion he has taking root in his heart for Hibiki Kuze.

“See? And not messy at all,” Hibiki grins and shifts so that he can slump his body into the small space beside Yamato. He curls up on his side, watching him much like a cat. “…I can stay, right?”

“Of course,” Yamato says and reaches up to card his hand very slowly, very shakily through Hibiki’s hair.

“You should sleep. Seriously,” Hibiki urges him, dispelling any notion that he needs any sort of reciprocation at this junction. “Take advantage of the endorphins and whatnot.”

Yamato chuckles again, this time fondly, and he closes his eyes. “As always, you are full of pleasant surprises.”

Hibiki makes a noise, a sort of happy little sigh, and he drapes an arm over the other. “Welcome back, Yamato.”


End file.
